Stars Flash By
by EnvelopesandCypressTrees
Summary: Should death be more regal for a hero? should it be more heroic? Nightwing is dying. his final thoughts. guys please don't drink and drive it's not worth it. READ AND REVIEW PLEASE. for those who are waiting for me to continue my "Self-Destruct" story. it's coming sorry been busy.BUT IT WILL COME!
1. STARS

It's not what I had whished for. But somehow it seems fitting, to be lying in the snow, numb. Numb. Numb… I've stopped shivering by now, shivering from the cold that is. The shivers that convulse my body are from fear. Only fear. I don't feel the pain. But I should. I know I should. With this much blood around me, there's no way I shouldn't, but is does seem to fit. There was no grand end for me like I had anticipated when I became a hero, there where not white lights, no violin music rolling though the snowy hills, my parents weren't reaching out for me their body's glowing or angelic.

I hoped that didn't mean I was going to hell. I could see my breath in tiny, very tiny, wisps above my cracked lips. The hot blood, which rightfully belonged in my body, was out on the snow and steaming around me, more steam was rising up to the heavens from that then my lips. That. That frightened me. Good lord. I was dying. I was dead actually, there was no way I would live through this. It was impossible.

I didn't regret. Heck, I was disappointed, more than regretful. I was disappointed that death wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. And as weird as that sounds, death _hurts_. Well, not so much now I was numbed from the snow, but I promise it did hurt when it happened.

I had killed myself. That. That itself was the disappointment. I didn't commit suicide I just did something stupid that lead to my demise. To this. I'd been lying here a while, bleeding out. Waiting to die. To freeze. To fall asleep. To have this regret, disappointment. To have this numbness. Or for the life to flash in front of my eyes. Which it hadn't yet. 21 lousy years, that all I asked for. Just flash, common I want to see it once more.

There most defiantly had been lows. But then again there had been perks. The team, Bruce, Tim, Damien. And yes, Jay. Oh god, how I had been torn up when he died. The disappointment I had felt when he came back as Red Hood. It was almost like what I was feeling now. Feeling about my life.

Richard Grayson. I was happy with that life. What I questioned. Here as I was dying. Was my life behind the mask. Then again, most of my life _was_ behind a mask. I knew that by now Bruce would be looking for me. Batman. Isn't it weird how we refer to our identities like two separate people? I guess I was separate, Richard loved. Nightwing lost.

I died as Nightwing. I look down to my blue crest, which is slowly tinting red. Good lord, I don't want to die as Nightwing! I don't' want to be remembered as Nightwing! I struggled to rip off the blue crest, then my mask. The bleeding, due to my struggles increased and I found it wet on my lips.

Tim would grieve. We were close. Oh God, so close. I had gotten too close to him. I should have known better than to let someone get close to me after my parents. Another mistake. Another disappointment. Tim would come. Tim would see. Tim would die. All my fault.

Bruce would come. He'd see. He'd _kill_. All my fault.

I shakily took a hand to my face and wiped off the blood. Stupid motorcycle. Stupid, icy road. Stupid drunk driver. I wasn't the drunk driver, some semi truck had slammed into me. It was 3 in the morning. I could only assume he was DWI.

He had ruined my life. Hell, he had _ended_ my life.

I should write a note. I looked around. For Dad, for my brothers, for my friends. I struggled to roll on my side, the blood searing down my frozen cheek. I used my finger to write in the snow. The letters came out red from the blood on my hands.

What do you write? When you know it's the last thing you will ever say? What is there to say that hasn't been said? I wondered if I should write something along the lines of "check mate" or "no regrets."

I decided on "going home."

That realization was scariest enough to spring tears to my eyes, they where like acid down my cheeks. I was excited to see my parents. But I was leaving a parent behind.

Bruce is not my father. He is not my father. He is not my father. He is not my…father.

He is so much more. He is my dad, my teacher, my mentor, he is my whole family rolled up into one…one…man.

God lord, what am I doing? Why am I making this so hard on myself? I rolled back over onto my back and stared at the stars. I'll miss those. Most out of anything mother nature had to offer. Stars, my stars. Stars I reached for and most of the time missed. I was a star. Just flickering out now.

My motorcycle is a heaping pile of scrap metal, still smoking. Smoking like my blood. I realize I have smeared the ground with it. It looks like a massacre. It's scary to know it's all mine.

Why am I not dead yet? Common life, I want to see you again, flash already.

"Richard?" it's a small voice. Small and angelic. I mumble in reply. I'm tired. I want coffee. I want a blanket. Maybe a pillow if I'm lucky. "Richard?!" The voice is screaming now and I wince. The blood around my lips running down my chin. Feet are running through the snow, the crunching reminding me of broken bones. "RICHARD!"

"Quiet, kid" I mumble. It's Timmy. I know it is. I know those sobs. Those sobs are the same ones that break my heart when Batman yells at him and he cries in my arms. I soothe him. Tell him it's all going to be ok. Tell him he's got me. I hate those sobs, yet somehow right now I hate them more.

"Richard…" he's whispering now, his small hands grabbing my face. His teary eyes looking me over. "oh please God no, not my brother" his whispering is heartbreaking "PLEASE NO!" he screams his throat raw and scratchy. I grab his wrist as tightly as I can

"Timmy! Timmy! Look at me!" he does. I realize I am whispering too. I have no strength but somehow I hold onto his wrist. I brush his dark hair out of his face. He dyed it to look like mine a couple years ago right after he had taken my mantle as Robin. The look had stuck. "Everything…is going to be…okay" I said it as if I was convincing myself. Breathy. Dying. Like a ghost whispering in your ear.

My voice scared me. He looks so young, younger than 15.

"Richard…stay-stay with me?" it comes out a question.

"As long as I can, buddy" the numbness is wearing off. The pain is coming back and I squint against it, clamp my teeth onto my tongue. Timmy is laying over me trying to warm me up. "Don't," I say quietly.

"Don't what?" He looks up at me; I realize he's in civilian clothes. His eyes are bright red.

"Don't warm me up" I cough and blood gargles past my lips. "The cold is numbing the pain" he leaps off me like I had suddenly caught on fire.

"Oh my god! I was hurting you!" he sobbed "I'm so sorry" tiny fists scrubbed at his eyes. My blood was on him.

"Not your…fault, kid" we were silent. It was eerie. As if we both came to a silent agreement that nothing could be done. I feel his hand softly grab mine and it's pulled into his chest.

"D-dear God…if you can hear me. P-please help him. He's my big brother. He's my big brother." I don't know why he repeated it. "He saves me, he's the only one that does. He keeps me real and everything that hurts me…h-he makes it go away" I force myself to look at him. His eyes are closed. He's pleading. "I can't live without him. He dries my tears and patches me up when get hurt…he catches me when I fall and teaches me how to fly, like his mom taught him…" my mom. "God…he's my best friend…" I tune him out. I focus on the stars. I have to or I'll cry my eyes out. I want to tell him so bad that God can't help me anymore, but I would never crush the little hope he holding onto. Big brothers don't do that. I realize he's stopped praying and is calling out to me.

"Yeah, still here" I mutter, closing my eyes. He's rubbing my face with his thumb, wiping the blood from my lips. I hear him mutter something like "You'd better be" or "You'd never leave" or "so I can see"…

It was "I love you, D" D for Dick. One of my other names. He's telling me to stay awake, I can hear the sobs catching in his throat like hiccups. There. There's a second voice. I smile. More like a grimace. It's dad.

"Richard! Tim! How is he?!" they swap words. I hear a curse or something. Then two strong, familiar arms lifting me.

At first I don't know why I did it but when I scream for all I'm worth, the hushed silence is shattered. My brother, my dad scream right along side me. It hurts. Oh lord, it _hurts_. "Dickey, son, stay with me" he's pleading too. His voice is cracking. The same cracking I heard when Jay died.

"Dad, no" I say, my voice soft my eyelashes fluttering. "I can't let them see me like this" he knows I mean the team, the heroes. My family. "You've-You've got to take Timmy away" he protests, "_please, dad"_ I see in his eyes, he knows why.

That time has come. Life still hasn't flashed.

"Timmy, go" Batman says. His voice is demanding, dangerous, warning. Solemn.

"NO! HE'S MY BROTHER!"

"TIMOTHY! I AM NOT ASKING!"

"NO! I AM NOT FUCKING LEAVING HIM!"

The curse rings in the air. I've never heard him curse before. It almost hurts.

"Please" I whisper "Timmy, just go"

"But, D"

"I will be alright" No. No I won't. But sometimes a small lie is easier to forgive than having to live with seeing someone you love die.

"Y-you promise?" he's broken. He's breaking.

"I do." He kisses my forehead. i feel bad because i'm sweating. his fingers find my cheek then he runs off, crying. He's headed for Mount. Justice. In a few minutes he be screaming at the team, telling them about me. In few minutes I'll be gone and he's be screaming at everyone. "Dad, I'm so sorry-" he cuts me off, looking down at me

"Who did this to you?" His voice is gruff, as dangerous as before, he rocking me like a child. The same way he did the night my parents died.

"Drunk driver" he looked as if he couldn't believe me

"No villain?" I know. I couldn't believe it either. I. I had been killed by a regular Joe, no grand finale, no dying in the line of duty. Nothing.

"Shocking, huh? Not how I thought I would go either" my lips twitches into a smile. He chuckles and I feel him hold onto me tighter.

"You're going to be okay, Dickie" People and their stupid hope. Saying anything to make the pain more bearable. The ones unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of such false hope play along. I did too.

"_Everything_ will be okay" he nodded. He understood. But he didn't believe it. He reads the words written next to me but says nothing. I find myself staring at him. Is he going to say anymore? Is there anything to be said? He's looking at the crest I ripped off my chest. It's lying crumpled in the snow.

"You're my son," he says. He's not talking to me though. "You're my everything" I say nothing. Usually I would have said "you should coin that" or "you should write a song" but today. Right now. I said nothing.

Common life. Flash by. I want to see you again.

The invasion had ended 3 years ago, miraculously no one had died. I had prided myself in that, even when the others hated me for my decisions. They had gotten over it though. They had seen why. The method behind my madness. It made me stronger. I had never lied like that to them since. Well, besides just lying to Timmy.

"Richard?" I don't respond…I'm too tired. "Son?" His voice is quiet as if not to wake me, my eyes slowly click into his. It's time. Common life. Common life. Common life. Flash already. Flash, JUST FLASH! I'm getting desperate, I want to remember all the things I had done. Anything. What had I done? Then…

There it was.

The starry night sky. So many stars. So many little dots of light. Each a person I had saved. There were so many. I tried to count them…

1, 2, 3, 4 – 23-48

"Richard? RICHARD PLEASE!"

I never got to 50.

* * *

**OMG SO SAD...PLEASE REVIEW THIS IS A ONESHOT. SO THIS IS ALL. BUT I DO TAKE STORY REQUESTS SO FEEL FREE TO REVIEW AN IDEA FOR FUTURE STORIES. THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING.**

**PLEASE DO NOT DRINK AND DRIVE. MY FRIEND DIED LIKE THIS AND IT IS NOT WORTH IT.**

**REVIEW PLEASE.**

**-eact**


	2. FLOWERS

He looked like he was counting. His lips moving forming numbers. He made no sound. I've never felt my heart break like this before. Well of course when my parents died, but this was my son. _My son._ I didn't have to take his pulse. When he suddenly went limp in my arms and a final bubble of blood rose on his lips, I knew he was gone. My fingers took his pulse anyways. Nothing. What had I expected? I didn't cry at first. I just screamed his name over and over. That's all I remember for a while. Screaming. Until my throat gave out and I was whispering his name. over and over. Willing him back to life.

I was holding him so gently as if not to break him any further. I ripped my cowl off. I didn't care if anyone drove by and saw. I was done with this. Done with this pain. I don't know when I started crying. But cried for all I was worth. Holding him more tightly with every sob. Pleading. Screaming. Rocking. I tried to warm him up, he was so cold. But for some reason it wasn't exactly a temperate cold, it was a death cold.

I, Bruce Wayne. Was holding my dead son in my arms. And I'd never get him back. _Never coming back._

I screamed raw pain into the air. This was worse than Jason. Dick was…different. I had called him my son for 12 years. 12, short, wonderful years. Wonderful. Wonderful years. All the fights, all the screaming, all the words and bruises. Just made our love more real. Stronger. I couldn't stay here with him forever. But somehow I couldn't move. The snow had numbed my knees, I had been here for over an hour holding him.

This would kill, Alfred. This would kill us all. Richard was the oldest, he was the glue that kept us together, he was the smiles in our screwed up family. He was the strongest. Always the strongest.

I had been an asshole to him. To all my sons. But no more. Not anymore. Not after this. I picked him up in my arms, my knees shaking. And placed him in the passenger seat of the Batmobile. The same way I had put Jason. Since when did my car become a hearse?

I realized there was a faint smile on his face, his eyes where wide open and unseeing. The stared at me. I wanted to close them but I was afraid if I did, my body would trick me into believing he was just sleeping. Please no, oh god no. Please. I stroked his cheek as I got into the drivers side. Careful to not wipe any blood off. It served as a sick remaindered that my son wasn't coming back. I just want him back.

Come back, Dickie. I drove, looking at him. Rage. It hadn't come yet but I knew it would. I couldn't see. The pain had blacked out my vision, the tears had fogged my eyes. I screamed again, bashing my hands on the steering wheel over and over, the car swerving. My face, I saw it in the mirror, I looked blue. Like I was about to pass out. My son's blood was all over me.

My mouth was open as I sobbed. My eyes shut. I didn't realize how fast I was going until mount justice appeared in front of me. I couldn't do this. I squealed to a park outside. I dropped my hands into my lap and stared at them. My breathing like I had run a marathon, fast, short, desperate.

I screamed again, this time bashing my head on the steering wheel repeatedly. It cut through my skin. But I couldn't feel it. I could only feel the blood running down my face. I was numb. Numb. Numb… yet inside I felt a boiling pain.

I was about to do the hardest thing I had every done. Lived without Richard. There was no life without Richard. What am I doing? I'm Batman! Why am I making this harder on myself!

Richard was not my son! He was not my son! He was…my kid. My light. My pride and joy. My…I sobbed again. Truthfully I had never stopped.

"'RICHARD! PLEASE!" I didn't realize I had screamed this until it echoed. I was breaking, I was crumbling. I've never had so many suicidal thoughts at once.

I had to go in. I had to tell the others that my son. _MY son. _Was gone. I was going to kill that driver. I was going to kill every drunk driver ever. I was going to kill anyone I could lay my hands on. I was going to…

I looked at Richard. He was staring at me, his eyes dull, dead. His mouth agape with blood dripping out. I brushed his hair out of his face. It was sticky with his sweat and tainted red.

"My god" I whispered, my eyes on him. "Dickie, _please._"

* * *

I was pacing the floor in mount Justice. Waiting for Nightwing to walk in with Bruce. Laughing saying

"Got you, Timmy!" I wished with all my self that would happen, but I knew it was false hope. I had called the team back from a reconnaissance mission, over 40 minutes ago. India was far away though. I hadn't told them why I had just screamed at them.

"_Robin, to team! Robin to team! Robin to team!" I shouted into the communications computer at the mountain. Nightwing had worked day and night to rebuild the headquarters. It was still a work in progress. But it was getting there. They had answered in a mere second._

"_Team here" it was Aqualad._

"_GET HERE NOW!" that was all. I had hung up. So that I could throw myself on the couch and cry. _

The Zeta announced the team had entered the hanger. I heard them running towards me.

"Robin!" Megan shouted embracing me, I couldn't help it. My brother was dying. I sobbed in her arms. The rest of the team stopped and looked on. Worry evident in their faces. They where all here. Old members, the new team had gone home earlier that day…I hadn't called them. Even Wally and Artemis who had re-joined the team after the invasion, where there. They had said it was to keep Nightwing in check. They didn't trust him after all the lies. But we all knew the action they tasted during the invasion sparked old thrills. Red Arrow, had his arm slung around Rocket's shoulders, he was limping a little.

What if my brother did die? How would I live? How would I…how would I survive? Oh my god. I couldn't imagine a life without my big brother. I realized they were hurdling questions at me. But all I could is cry.

"Wait stop!" It was Wally "slow down…he's in shock" I looked up at him, he was a blur through my tears. I pushed Megan away, she fell.

"ITS ALL YOUR FAULT!" I hated them! I'm not sure looking back why it was their fault. But it made sense then "I HATE YOU ALL!" Megan was helped up. I started swinging my fists at Wally; he was the closest to me. I wasn't exactly accurate with my punches, my tears; my pain was throwing me off. Some one wrapped their arms around me from behind, it was Conner. He was being remarkably gentle.

I sobbed and wrapped my arms around his neck. He smelled like sweat. I didn't care. The smell seemed to anchor me down into reality. Connor looked up at the rest of the team. Some where crying at my screams. I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud. That my brother. Was dying. Was dead.

When the zeta announced Jason from Gotham, I knew I was in some deep shit. He stood there looking at the ground un-moving. I pried myself away from Connor. The smell disappeared. It felt like I was floating. My eyes heavy. He slowly looked up at me, his eyes red, with a dangerous look to the them. Like I was looking at the devil himself. Pure black.

"Tell me it isn't true." He said, it was a demand. Not a plea. His voice was strong. Stony. Harsh. He walks up to me his hands balled at fists by his side. He looks down at me. When did he get so tall? I felt myself shrinking. Dickie, come back to me. "Where's, Golden Boy?" Pure rage, emitted from me. I felt it so fast it threw me off balance for a second.

"LIKE YOU CARE!" I screamed my spit pelting him in the face, he grabbed my collar roughly, I felt the air rush from my lungs.

"WHERE IS MY BROTHER?" he shouted, this time his spit hitting me.

"DON'T CALL HIM THAT!...HE'S NOT YOU BROTHER! HE NEVER WAS!"

"LIKE HELL, YOU LITTLE FAILURE! HE WAS THE ONLY PERSON WHO-"

"WHO WHAT?! _CARED_ FOR YOU!" the silence that followed was awkward, it was broken when a closed fist slammed into my face, knocking me across the room. I lay on the floor stunned. "Jason, _please_" I mutter. Suddenly he's on me. My older brother. Slamming his fists into my face, my stomach. I don't fight it. The pain is welcome. I don't deserve to live. Not without, D. I was screaming, sobbing as he punched me. I Don't know who pulled him off but the punches only last a few seconds. Someone pulled me into their arms.

"I will kill you someday, bitch!" I hear Jason scream at me. Jay is my brother but yet he would kill me. Dickie would never. If he where here he'd be the one holding me. Whoever was holding me now got shoved again. I only wanted Richard.

"Talk to him like that one more time and _I _will kill _you_" Red Arrow said, shoving my brother roughly. I sniffle.

"It's not your fault, Jay Jay" I whisper, stepping cautiously nearer. I realize no one has said anything about having no sunglasses on. He looks at me pure hatred in his eyes. "It's not Bruce's either."

"Tell me it's not true" this time his voice is softer, his eyes are almost pleading. I turn away from him, I see the team just standing there trying to make sense of it all. "I got the alert on my communicator, that pretty boy's vitals…" he trailed off.

"What do you mean?" Wally asked. Steeping forward, he looks between us both. "WHAT. DO. YOU. MEAN?! HIS VITALS?" I sniffle. Artemis grabs Wally's arm tightly, looking pale. Do I say he's dead? Or that he's dying. Or just that he got hurt?

"Please…my brother" Aqualad grabs my shoulder tightly. "What has happened?" I breathe.

"D, was driving here at 3 this morning" it was nearly 4:30 now. "He was going to set up a Christmas party, for Christmas Eve tomorrow." I could see it in their eyes, they didn't like where this was going. "He-he, was just driving his motorcycle and he-he got hit…I don't know by who…I-I saw him laying there…" I was sobbing again, my voice was breathy like I couldn't breath. But I was breathing all too well. Zatanna was holding me, tears soaking her face. She was telling me everything was going to be ok. "There was so much blood…"

I can hear their sobs, I squeeze my eyes shut so tightly I see spots.

"IS HE DEAD? IS HE DEAD GOD DAMN IT!?" It was Conner, rage like I've never heard in him before. Batman enters just then. D is with him. I never want to remember that. The way he looked. Head lolled sideways. Blood drying on his chin. Eyes blank. That usual immature-ish twinkle wiped out.

"My god" was whispered. The wails got louder. Such pain. Such rage. Batman looked so broken. Dad. I ran to my brother.

"YOU LIED!" I screamed at my brother's body. "YOU PROMISED YOU'D BE OK!" I dropped to my knees "YOU TOLD ME YOU'D BE HERE FOR ME!" Batman was being crowded. He was screaming

"DON'T TOUCH HIM! DON'T TOUCH MY SON!" at the same time, if possible they were staying close and yet keeping their distance. Most of them where just screaming, sobbing like I was. Their faces frozen in agony.

Look what you're doing to us, Dickie. Was it worth it? Was it worth giving up? Was it worth leaving me?

* * *

"We are gathered here today…not to mourn the loss of a hero…but to celebrate the life of a remarkable young man. He forever touched our lives. He forever put himself first. Richard Grayson's life, although rough from the beginning, was changed into something worth celebrating. Through tough times, through great accomplishments. We refuse to say goodbye, Dickie. You will live on forever in our hearts. We will never forget you."

Superman's voice was almost unrecognizable. Strong, yet muffled. When he looked up, the quiet crying of heroes. People. Meet his eyes. The turn out was remarkable. Hundreds of people gathered in BludHaven. Each with a single white flower. I was standing besides the casket, looking down at my son. I slowly took the podium, with a small nod to Superman.

"Thank-thank you" my voice cracked and I took a second to take a deep breath, I looked slowly out among the crowd and brushed at a tear "thank you all for coming…when I came to the realization that that's-" I pointed to the casket "-that's my Dickie, my son, that's his body. And I'm never going to see him again…that when I was holding his broken body in my arms. I was going to kill the man who did this to me…to him"

I stopped, my voice was unnaturally high from holding back tears, I coughed and sniffled at the same time "He wouldn't want me to do that thought. Richard was the light of my life. He was the light I looked for in this desert of darkness. He…somehow always made me smile. He somehow always made me a better person."

I hear a sob. They agree "I just-just can't understand why it's so…why someone would drive DWI, knowing that they are going to ruin a family. My son-" I point to the casket again "that's my son in there…we are about to put him in the ground…and I will _never_ see him again" oh lord, I'm crying, "I'm a father, I was a dad. This pain I feel right now…I can't describe it. My little bird got his wings torn out by stupidity. By something that could have been avoided…"

I look out at the crowd once again, I see the league in the front seat, some are holding tissues to their faces, some are leaning over onto each other as if all their strength has left them.

"He was my strength…" I look down at the podium, my gloves are scratching at the wood, leaving marks. "When Dickie was 9, he lost both his parents in a circus accident…it was fate that he found me. In the first week it was as if he'd been my son his whole life. Well to me anyways. He had trouble adjusting at first…but both his parents had been ripped from him…"

"Somehow he managed to get through it and stay strong for everyone around him…he was the most remarkable kid I had ever met" the scratching had stopped; I realized I had wrote his name in the wood. "My son, is gone" I said it out loud, as if telling myself. "He is GONE…and I still can't believe it." I stepped back from the podium "he never gave up…don't give up on the hope he left behind…" I bowed my head "or the people….I just have to say one more thing…"

I looked up not hiding the sadness in my face "We never caught the driver that ended my son's life…my heroes life…so I just have to ask…was it worth it?"

The flowers one by one where dropped in the river. There were so many. Almost as many as the stars in the night sky. News crews where recording every second, every sob, every scream. Heroes stood hand in hand at the shore.

"We will never forget" was on a banner above the podium.

"I know" I whispered dropping his flower.

The casket was lowered. Each shove of dirt hit the casket with a hallow thud. It sank my heart deeper into my body. The end of an era. The end of me. I was broken. Dickie, please don't do this to me...

_RICHARD GRAYSON_

_The truest hero of us all._

_Son, Brother, Hero_

* * *

**_ONLY BECAUSE Y'ALL ASKED FOR A SECOND CHAPTER...THIS IS DONE NOW. REVIEWS KEEP ME WRITING. MORE REVIEWS = MORE STORIES. _**

**_THIS IS A TRUE STORY...BUT INSTEAD OF NIGHTWING...IT WAS MY BFF. GUYS DON'T DWI. PLEASE!_**

**_-EACT_**

**_REVIEW PLEASE. I TAKE STORY REQUESTS._**


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